


turn'd towards the horizon

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra would not normally allow herself such maudlin tripe, even in the confines of her mind. But today, of all days, she believes it warranted. Today— with the warmth of Josephine’s fingers still lingering on her skin, the memory of her perfume still— she abruptly turns away, ears burning, to make her way to the training grounds. A romantic she may be, but she refuses to become a woolgatherer besides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn'd towards the horizon

They watch the delegation set off from Skyhold, and she feels like her heart leaves with it.

 

Cassandra would not normally allow herself such maudlin tripe, even in the confines of her mind. But today, of all days, she believes it warranted. Today— with the warmth of Josephine’s fingers still lingering on her skin, the memory of her perfume still— she abruptly turns away, ears burning, to make her way to the training grounds. A romantic she may be, but she refuses to become a woolgatherer besides.

 

The Chargers are out drilling in the courtyard, and she returns Krem’s hail with a wave as she passes them. Bull gets up when he sees Leliana behind her and waves her over, and she obligingly changes directions. The Inquisitor, despite her healers’ instructions, had insisted on being there for the departure of their negotiating team, and now she leans on Dorian for her slow trek back.

 

The dummies are waiting for Cassandra in her corner like always. As is her copy of _Swords and Shields_ , wedged carefully between the padding of one of the demolished dummies in the corner.

 

“You should find a new place for that,” she hears Leliana say behind her, and Cassandra quite literally jumps. “If they decide to clean those up, you could accidentally lose your book.”

 

“Must you always sneak up on me?”

 

“As the Inquisition Spymaster—” she begins, but cuts off when she notices Cassandra rolling her eyes. “We’re lacking patience today, I see.”

 

“Just get on with it, then,” she says, and Leliana crosses her arms.

 

“Josie told me.”

 

Cassandra’s eyes drop from Leliana’s face, her face hot.

 

“You’re _blushing_ , that’s adorable.” She looks back up, a denial quickly rising to her lips: but _what_ will she deny? Ugh.

 

“Leave me be, Leliana,” she grits out. Leliana reaches out to pat her shoulder, warmth in her eyes.

 

“Josie was radiant. I’m very happy for you two.” Cassandra loses a battle with a smile, which completely takes over her face.

 

"Well, I—. Yes." Leliana leaves for the rookery after shooting her a fond look.

 

Cassandra sits down, book in her lap, but her eyes skid over the words without taking them in. She thinks, instead, of the preceding week. Of going up to Josephine’s room, her heart thudding as if she were an adolescent once more, sweat prickling at her palms. Of writing down words only to forget them, stumbling over words, over her feet, over clumsy overtures, and feelings that were, miraculously, returned.

 

Her thoughts turn to over an hour ago when Josephine, having finished her preparations for departure, sent a runner to fetch her to the battlements. Cassandra’s breath had caught when she came into her sight, Josephine’s hair tied lower and looser, striking without her chain of office over her travelling clothes. Cassandra came to a stop just within reach, pausing to look, to commit to memory— until Josephine had impatiently guided her close, her fingers on her neck. Cassandra’s arms automatically went around her waist, pulling her even closer.  And then Josephine’s lips were warm on hers, her thumb sweeping toward her jaw, skipping over her pulse: then she had huffed out her breath with a smile, pulling back to say, “Your heart races, my lady.”

 

“Why would it not?”

 

“Oh,” she had said, her long lashes brushing her cheeks, a smile tugging at her lips until they were kissing again. And again, and yet again, and again until Josephine pulled back, her palm on Cassandra’s chest. She sighed, “I must go.” She wound her arms around Cassandra’s neck.

 

“I know.”

 

“Negotiations will not take more than a month: less, even, if we are quick about it.”

 

Cassandra leaned down to steal a kiss. “I know.”

 

“I will be back as soon as I am able.”

 

“Of course you will.”

 

Josephine sighed again, and pressed her face into Cassandra’s shoulder, tightening her hold. “Do write to me. I shall miss you terribly.”

 

“As will I. But as for my writing, you might regret asking that.”

 

“I’m sure I won’t.” She pulled her down to kiss again, and then she was disentangling herself entirely, save for her hand which was now slipping into hers. “Now I really must go.” Then they were walking, hand in hand, down to where both guards and the rest of the retinue were gathering, by the stables, the Inquisitor chatting with Leliana until she noticed the two of them, and—

 

The book falling from her lap snaps her from her thoughts. She quickly looks around, but nobody seems to have noticed her daydreaming. She closes it and and gets to her feet; if her mind will not yield, she will tire herself out. She unsheathes her sword and turns to the dummies.

 

 

* * *

_My Dear Lady Cassandra,_

_I hope this finds you in good health. We have made good time, and the scouts tell me it will take less than two days to reach our destination. I cannot wait until I can sleep in a bed again. Camping is... rustically charming, but I do not understand how you bear it so often._

_The spirits are high, and the men are playing Wicked Grace outside. Perhaps I shall join them after I send this letter._

_Has Skyhold fallen apart, yet, without me? Leliana assures me that is not the case, but I am afraid she might be putting on a brave face for my sake. I trust you would tell me the truth. How is the Inquisitor’s injury? Have there been pranks? Accidents? Errors with any of our visiting guests? Oh, I believe I didn’t order the cherry wine that Lady Corbin favours, would you be so kind as to tell any of the runners for me? They will take care it. But I digress._

_How do you fare? You seemed hesitant to write when I asked you, but I assure you I can’t wait to hear from you._

_With all my affection, I remain,_

_Yours,_

_Josephine Montilyet_

* * *

_Dear Lady  Josephine,_

_Skyhold lives, even in your absence, however difficult that might be to believe. Sera cannot be controlled easily, but nothing has been damaged irreparably. As of yet._

_They would not tell me anything about cherry wine when I went to enquire, only that I must tell you not to “fuss like a mother hen” over the problems here. I left the storerooms uncertain as to my standing in the Inquisition, and this is the first time anyone has managed to do so._

_I am well enough. Leliana has joined me in the practice yard a few times, surprisingly. It has been a good change, working with her fighting style. The Inquisitor is not forbidden from moving any longer, and has started walking out to the gardens. It is still a while before she will fight, but the recovery is heartening._

_I expect the talks to have already begun by the time this reaches you. How do they progress? Will you, perchance, be able to leave sooner than anticipated?_

_Yours,_

_Cassandra Pentaghast_

_P.S.  Did you “play” our men, for their— as they are so fond of complaining— meager wages? I don’t want to have to come and rescue you from a mutiny._

* * *

_My Dear Lady Cassandra,_

_My, my, such insinuations. I would never cheat at Wicked Grace. And I will have you know, the men and I have been getting along perfectly well. I could not have asked for a friendlier retinue. I did not know Aldous had such a lovely voice. He is shy, but I managed to convince him to lend his voice to the Chantry service when he can._

_I am glad to hear about the Inquisitor, I suppose it is only a matter of time before you are back to fighting dragons by her side. While the injury was very worrisome, I am glad you have had reason to relax, at least a little. I do not believe you’ve taken a break since before the Conclave._

_I fear to ask— what has Sera done now? You say no irreparable damage, does that include damage to our reputation?_

_The negotiations go smoothly, but there are a number of issues they are adding, some favours from the Inquisition that must be arranged, and now they talk of a ball to be thrown in our honour before we leave. It is a great compliment, and it will be lovely to attend. I do wish you were here as well, though I suppose you prefer to be as far away from balls as possible._

_With all my affection, I remain,_

_Yours,_

_Josephine Montilyet_

* * *

_Dear Lady Josephine,_

_It was good to receive word, the news of the negotiations is encouraging. The ball must be over by now, and the path home before you. It is understandable that camping out of doors causes you distress— I manage only due to long practice and how tired I am by the time I must sleep._

_I had not realized it was so long since my last break, though some might say I’m not one for breaks. Varric definitely agrees with you, he wishes me to join their game of Wicked Grace and “take a load off”. I have no doubt it is so he can fleece me. When you’re there, that is, at least, one reason for me to attend._

_The Inquisitor is beginning to get impatient now, so it is clear the pain has faded. She will start her drills soon, when the healers allow it. She really should have known better than to jump in the path of a charging bronto._

_The telling of the things Sera did would take too long to write down, and I do believe others would do them far more justice. The incident this week involved ram horns, beeswax, and ink. Leliana actually looked proud of this prank; I suspect her help was behind this. She claims it “helped raise morale”._

_I worry Skyhold might fall into chaos if you do not return soon._

_Yours,_

_Cassandra Pentaghast_

 

 

* * *

 

 

They return late during the night.

 

The lookouts had, the previous day, estimated the time of arrival to early next morning. And Cassandra had gone to bed, knowing she would be awake for her daily prayers long before that time. Instead, she is woken up by footsteps, and a quiet whisper of her name in the darkened smithy.

 

Her first thought is to reach for a sword.

 

Her second thought provides, helpfully, that intruders wouldn’t whisper her name.

 

Her _third_ thought is the one that makes the link, of who it could be, and certainty is settling in her guts just as she becomes visible, and Cassandra bolts for the stairs. Josephine flies into her arms.

 

She leans up for a quick kiss, before she murmurs, “Hello.”

 

She smells of frost, and woodsmoke, and the earth, and Cassandra’s nose finds itself in her hair. She closes her eyes as Josephine’s arms snake around her shoulders, and they cling to each other for a long moment.

 

Cassandra’s voice is hoarse when she speaks. “Welcome back.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear what you thought.


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